


i can taste static

by melliohii



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hearing Voices, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Swearing, Panic Attacks, theyre very mild but I’m tagging just to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29950866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliohii/pseuds/melliohii
Summary: The world slips out from under him as nausea rolls up in his stomach. He lurches forwards as the music crescendos is a swirling tornado of excruciating noise as the voice cuts through the haze. It’s so clear somehow, admits all the chaos of the music that drowns out even his own thoughts, and it’s screaming at him.orRanboo is falling apart but Techno and Phil are there to be a grounding force.
Relationships: Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 345
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Ranboo Is Best Boi





	i can taste static

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing these three so I apologise if it’s a but messy but I hope you enjoy none the less!

There’s a static in his brain; a spectrum forming in his retina, wrapping around his mind and suffocating it with a dull noise that shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it does. 

It’s distracting and that irritates him. It swells up in a crackling lull that seems to taunt him as he tries and fails to ignore it. It hurts and that’s not normal and that’s probably not good. Beneath him, the world rumbles lightly. The air is thicker than normal and it pricks his skins as the edges of his vision flicker ever so slightly.

Something cuts through the static, so sudden and clear it catches him off guard. 

“You okay mate?”

Ranboo blinks once, twice, as he recognises the voice talking to him. He’d gotten lost in his thoughts at some point, distracted by the soft ringing in his ears that had slowly been picking up in volume and annoyance. The noise brought with it a buzzing static and a dull pain that made his fingers twitch in preparation of a more intense migraine. 

Migraines weren’t an uncommon occurrence for him, but the static was new and it unsettled him to an uncomfortable degree. 

He blinks a third time and he is back in Techno’s kitchen, sitting at one end of his splintering wooden table with Phil and Techno on either side. He’d been invited for dinner, he remembers that now as he stares down at the plate in front of him. He sighs, leaning back in his chair, trying to focus more on answering the question than the pain and static buzzing in his ears. 

“Hmm? Oh yeah, sorry. Just got a bit of a headache.” Ranboo says quickly. He lines his words with a smile, but his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. The other two don’t notice however, and it’s something Ranboo is grateful for because he can’t risk worrying them. Not when he’s a guest in their home, not when things have been going so well recently. 

Techno laughs instead and it eases his mind slightly; “Join the club kiddo. Give it some time, you’ll be a tough as you’re old mentor soon and you’ll be able to crush those migraines between your palms.” He raises him fork as he finishes, as if he had said something truly revolutionary. Phil bursts out laughing and Ranboo can’t help joking him. It hurts, but he ignores it and he is glad for the distraction from his crowded mind. 

Techno pouts, eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny?” He gruffs out. The gravy dropping down the side of face really doesn’t help his attempts to seem menacing. 

“Nothing mate. You’re fine.” Phil chuckles. 

They finish their food and the conversation continues for a while, with Ranboo doing his best to contribute. He smiles and laughs and nods in agreement but each movement brings with it a fresh wave of pain and nausea. 

Ranboo shifts in his in his seat every couple of minutes; fidgeting under the table as his tail swishes slightly in discomfort. 

Suddenly, something like a shattering sound echoes in the distance. The others don’t seem to notice but Ranboo is hyper aware of the noise as it scrapes across his brain like nails on a chalkboard. 

The table is suddenly very far away. Techno and Phil’s voices are drowned out by a melody creeping through his ear and leeching into his brain. Ranboo suddenly feels ill as he recognises the tune. Mellohi blurs in his mind and it takes an agonising amount of willpower for him to hold back a scream. 

Pain blossoms inside of his brain like a flower bursting through the surface of his mind, ripping it apart as it does so. 

Phil has turned to him and it dawns on Ranboo that he’s lost track of the conversation. They’re arguing about something, he thinks, but their words slip through his ears like sand through uncoordinated fingers. He’d caught the ends and beginnings of sentences. Something about the ‘correct way to arrange an inventory’. In any other circumstance he would happily throw in his two cents. But in the moment his mind feels fuzzy and he can’t seem to put together any coherent thoughts. 

Phil is facing him now, and he vaguely registers the man’s lips moving. “Watcha think Ranboo?” Phil chuckles. “Don’t you agree that... that...” he trails off suddenly as he properly studies the boy, causing Techno to look up. “Ranboo?”

The hybrid is staring straight ahead, gaze distant and fixed on a point that the others can’t see. His nails are dug into the table, grasping onto the splintering wood like it’s a lifeline; like it the one thing connecting him to the world and preventing him fully drifting away into the vast void of nothingness that beckons him. 

Panic claws at Phil and Techno’s chests and they quickly glance between one another. 

Phil swallows, then tries again. “Ranboo? You feeling okay mate?”

Ranboo blinks once, twice, then quickly looks down and digs his nails deeper into the table. “Head- hurts-“ he pants, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Phil doesn’t need anything more than that. He stands quickly, floor squeaking beneath him as chair legs scrape against it. “Tech. Potions. Now.”

The piglin gives an affirming grunt before disappearing out of the room as Phil makes his way over to Ranboo, kneeling beside him. “Hey bud. Everything’s gonna be alright.” Ranboo doesn’t respond, barely even acknowledges Phil’s presence. The man takes a small breath, shuffling a little closer to him. “Hey, is touch okay?”

For a moment he gets nothing in return and in the silence all that can be heard are Ranboo’s ragged breaths that cut through Phil like knives, grief pulling the hilt and twisting the blade deep into his skin.

Eventually Ranboo inhales, opening his eyes before replying with a shaky _yeah_. His voice is impossibly tiny and it takes Phil a shocking amount of restraint to not fully embrace him. He can’t risk overwhelming the boy further right now, so instead he gingerly takes one of his trembling hands between his own calloused ones. 

Ranboo’s fingers twitch as he grips Phil’s hand, squeezing it slightly before catching himself and releasing. Phil chuckles softly, brushing the fingers of his free hand over the boy’s knuckles. 

“Squeeze all you like.” He tells him gently. “I’m tougher than I look ya know, I can take a little pressure.”

Ranboo lifts his gaze momentarily, studying Phil’s face as if to confirm that he has permission. His eyes almost immediately dart back down to his lap, but he slowly begins to squeeze Phil’s hand again. As tough as he claims to be- and for the most part, is- the man is still slightly shocked by the sheer strength of the Ranboo’s grip. It’s a testament really, to just his much pain he is in, and that shatters Phil’s heart like a hammer to a vase. 

The sit there like that for a few quiet minutes, before Techno shuffles back into the room awkwardly, an assortment of potions and other item clutched against his chest. 

He meets Phil’s gaze, and the older man nods quickly. 

Phil reaches up and carefully brushes Ranboo’s bangs out of his face. “Hey, how ‘bout we move to the couch, yeah? You okay to stand?” Ranboo only nods in response, his exhaustion now hauntingly apparent as it washes across his faces in waves he can no longer hold back. The sea of fatigue is relentless. In the dim light of the kitchen’s dying candle Phil can properly make out the bags that outline the boy’s eyes, silently cursing himself for not noticing them before. He looks so young in this light, so unexplainably fragile. It’s so easy to forget, with his stature and maturity, that Ranboo is still barely seventeen. 

Phil helps the boy stand (an ordeal which proves awkward with their stark differences in height) and leads him toward the tattered couch in the adjacent room. 

They sit, Ranboo sinking back into the cushions as exhaustion weighs down heavy on hi trembling shoulders. Phil can see Ranboo’s skin growing pale and clammy and carefully manoeuvres the teen to remove his jacket, murmuring quick explanations of each movement before doing so, so as not to startle him. 

When the jacket had been successfully removed- awkwardly discarded and half draped over Ranboo’s lap- the hybrid leans back again, as he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. Colours dance across his vision, only adding to the nausea rolling up in his stomach. His breathing is short and laboured, hands shaking as beads of sweat roll down his burning skin. 

Phil feels a pang of pity stabbing at his heart. Techno had shuffled into the room with them and set his supplies down on the battered coffee table in the centre of the room. He stands in front of the couch now, shifting his weight from one foot to another, waiting for an indication to get to work. 

“Ranboo, mate, could you try and describe what you’re feeling so we can work out how to help?” Phil keeps his voice low, not wanting to overwhelm the hybrid. 

Ranboo pulls his trembling hands away from his face, eyes struggling to focus in the brighter light. His pupils are dilated, a dazed expression coming over him. 

“There you are.” Phil chuckles. Ranboo turns to him sluggishly, his head still hung slightly as he avoids Phil’s gaze. 

“What’s bothering you kid?” Techno asks, squatting in front of the coffee table and fidgeting with some of the bottles. 

Ranboo inhales. “My head hurts. It’s like a migraine but... a lot worse. This happens sometimes but it- it hasn’t been this bad before.”

“Shit. Okay, okay. What do you normally do when this happens?” Phil queried. 

Ranboo’s brow furrows. What does he normally do? He’s sure that should be common knowledge for him, yet somehow the question has him stumped. He feels so unnaturally drained and his mind keeps drifting into static, making it difficult to concentrate. 

Phil must notice him falter, because he leans forwards, pressing with a gentle “Ranboo?” 

The hybrid’s head jerks up. “I, um, I normally try to ignore it I guess? Or distract myself. But it’s worse than usual so that’s kinda hard...” His tongue feels heavy as he speak, mouth stuffed with the same static-lined cotton that is suffocating his brain. 

“Kid.” Techno gruffs. “Watcha mean you ‘just ignore it’? No offence but that doesn’t sound like the healthiest way of dealing with things.”

Phil hums in agreement and even amidst his haze Ranboo is suddenly far too aware of his and Techno’s gazes trained on him. 

They’re glares burn into his already searing skin. It’s to hot, too tight. Somewhere at the back of his mind something is nagging at him to leave. To get up and run without looking back. _They don’t care about you._ it snarls. _You’re only getting in there way_

“No. You’re lying. They do- they do care.” He whispers. It’s barely audible, but Techno picks up on the soft murmur and raises an eyebrow in concern. 

_How can you be sure? Everyone else has betrayed you. Why won’t they?_

Ranboo feels sick. The nagging thought is more like a voice now. It’s like a breeze travelling around his brain, freezing every inch of his thoughts and poisoning his mind with its twisted desires that lie beneath its sickly-sweet tone. 

It’s an all too familiar sensation and it terrified Ranboo. 

_They don’t care. No one cares about you. Why would they? You’re weak. You’re pathetic and selfish and hypocritical. You are useless to everyone except for the one man you hate the most. You are nothing._

“Shut up!” Ranboo’s voice is shaky but it’s louder this time. Loud enough for Techno to know he has definitely said _something_. Loud enough for Phil to hear too. 

“Ranboo what-?” Phil breathes, words lined with hurt. 

Techno is less gentle. “Kid. What the hell? We’re just trying help, you don’t have to snap at us.”

Ranboo hadn’t realised he’d spoken out loud. Or maybe he had and it just hadn’t registered in his head. _Stupid, stupid Ranboo._ Of course they’d heard. They were here and they were trying to help and he’d completely ignored them. 

They shouldn’t even be putting up with this anyway.

“I- sorry I got distracted.” Ranboo mutters frantically. “I didn’t- didn’t mean to. I mean- I wasn’t talking to you- no no I mean... I just- I’m sorry.”

Phil and Techno’s expression falter slightly, softening as concern comes in to replace the irritation. 

“I should leave. I should- I’m sorry you shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’ll leave- I’ll -“ He tries to push himself up but his arms no longer seem to be working in tangent with his brain and his coordination is skewed as he simply flops back down pathetically. 

He keeps trying however, mumbling inaudibly as he does so. Talking aloud to Techno and Phil, to himself, to the voice in his head that refuse to _shut up_. 

The two men are glancing between each other, faces mirroring the same fearful expression. 

“Kid...” Techno draws out, taking a hesitant step towards the blubbering boy. 

“This keeps happening. This _always_ happens.” Ranboo continues in a desperate, almost pleading tone. “Things are going well and then I mess everything up. I’m sorry- Prime I’m so sorry you shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’ve made such a mess I’m so sorry-“

Phil swallows; “You have nothing to apologise for. You haven’t done anything wrong-“

“I have.” Ranboo interjects, pushing his hands up against his eyes again. 

“Ranboo.” Phil’s voice is firmer now. “You haven’t done anything wrong oaky? Prime I don’t think you’re even capable of doing wrong.” He’s trying to be comforting, but he fails to notice the way Ranboo’s ears twitch at the words as his body begins to stiffen suddenly. “You apologise way too much but you’ve hardly ever done anything even remotely bad.“ 

“But I have!” Ranboo exclaims; eyes wide, frantic almost, as lurches forwards; hands pulling away from his face now he digs his nails deep into his thighs. Phil realises very quickly that was the wrong thing to say. “I’ve done terrible things that I can’t even remember- But I know they happened. I mean they- they have to be real because he told me and... and...”

He’s cut off by a hiccuping sob, hands coming up to cover his mouth as the reality of what he’s said hits him in a sudden wave. Phil moves from his spot on the couch to kneel in front of him, ignoring the the boy’s attempts to pull away from him. “Ranboo...” he breathes, the shakiness in his voice threatening to break any illusion that he is not utterly terrified. “Who told you?”

His only response is another low cut sob and a desperate head shake. 

There’s silence for a moment, as the boy’s cries flood the room leeching into ever fold of the air and suffocating the older men’s hearts in a blanket of regret and desperation. 

Techno stands, eventually, drawing his cloak tighter around his shoulders before speaking: “It was Dream, wasn’t it?”

Ranboo stiffens, his cries cut off so suddenly it seems to catch even him by surprise. Phil whips around to Techno, horror and confusion bleeding out across his face. 

“Techno. What the hell are you-“

“You remember...” Ranboo’s voice is barely a whisper and his face is devoid of all emotion as he raises his head to meet Techno’s gaze. (He stops just before his eye-line, catching himself as something within him snarls a reminder that he is _not supposed to look_ , that he doesn’t have that right). 

“‘Course I remember kid.” Techno grunts. “We ain’t all amnesiacs.” He means it lightheartedly but the words come out harsh and monotone and he feels himself grimacing at his lack of tact. 

“Hi, yes, what the fuck?” Phil cute in, glancing between the two of them as fear and confusion flooding his face in waves. “Would someone care to explain how _Dream_ of all people is involved in this?”

His gaze lands on Techno, who simply shrugs. “Not my place to talk about it really.” The piglin sighs, looking at Ranboo. “Kid.” 

Ranboo hasn’t moved. Phil whirls back around to him and the hybrid flinches slightly, wringing his trembling fingers together. 

“Ranboo...” Phil pleads. “What’s going on?”

Red and green eyes meet blue- for just a split second- and they are sparkling with tears. Ranboo swallows, nails digging deep into the delicate flesh on the back of his hands as he tries to compose himself. 

“I- uh- I mentioned it to Techo before- a while back. But uh... I hear voices.” Beside him Phil tenses. “ _A voice_ I mean, just one actually, and it uh- it sounds like Dream? And it tells me that I did things that I, uh, I don’t remember doing. Like with Tommy’s disk. I didn’t know I had it until the voice... the voice told me I did. It’s like a link between me and the enderwalk I- I think. But sometimes it’s just... it’s so loud and I can’t even _think_ and I just... I don’t know what to do.”

A shattering silence hangs over the trio as Ranboo lets out a shaky exhale. 

Phil swallows, leaning backwards and rubbing a hand against his temple. “Uh... well okay. Shit. There’s a lot to unpack there.”

Ranboo’s ears flatten suddenly, eyes widening is abject horror. “I- crap I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that- I’m sorry gosh I’m so sorry just ignore me, p-pretend I didn’t say that I um- I- I-“ He stumbles over his words, choking on his own sobs as he tries desperately to hold back tears. He can’t bare the pain of the water burning right now but he is struggling to coordinate his own body.

His attempts fail miserably and hot tears streak his face and singe his skin. It hurts. Prime it hurts so bad and it makes him sob harder as he starts to hyperventilate. 

“Ranboo. Kid. You need to breath.”

It’s Techno’s voice that cuts through the haze and Ranboo glances up at him as he tries to calm his sobs. 

“Sorry...” Ranboo hiccups. 

Techno sighs. “Jesus kid you don’t- it’s okay. Prime you apologise way too much.”

“S- sor...” Ranboo starts before Techno raises and eyebrow and he quickly cuts himself off. “I mean I just... are- are you mad at me?” His voice is barely a whisper. 

Much to his surprise, Phil laughs from beside him. “You’re fine mate. We’ve nothing to be angry about. I mean, it would’ve been helpful to know about this stuff before. Clearly you’ve got... a lot going on. But that doesn’t inherently make you a bad person. How do you even know what the voice is telling you is true?”

This stumps the hybrid. “I- um I mean- uh-“

“Voices in you head usually aren’t the most reliable source of information kiddo.” Techno grunts. “Maybe you did some bad stuff. Maybe you didn’t. Phil and I aren’t exactly ‘good guys’ in any sense of the word so whether you did that stuff or not, it really ain’t that big a deal to us. Especially if you don’t even do it on purpose. You really oughta stop getting so worked up over things you can’t control.”

Ranboo swallows thickly. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just hard to deal with it all sometimes. Especially when I don’t even know what’s true or not.”

“Eh, that’s understandable. You just gotta take it own step at a time you know? And don’t like, just try bottling everything up.” 

“We’re here for you.” Phil adds. “You’re not a bother at all I promise.” 

Ranboo feels a warmth spreading in his chest as a small wave of relief rushes over him. “I- thank you. That means a lot.” 

“‘Course kiddo.” 

“Yeah no problem mate.”

Ranboo leans back into the couch again as he lets the words sink in. For a moment he feels calm, content almost. It’s been a long time since the felt genuinely safe in the presence of someone else, especially when he is so vulnerable and he relishes in the warm feeling it brings him. 

The moment is short lived. 

The warmth in his chest is graining too hot too quickly, until it feels likes a fire consuming his insides. It spreads through his body until it reaches his head, crashing into his brain as it brings with it a new wave of static wrapping around his mind. 

Amidst the static there is a haunting melody and a voice beckoning him to give into the sound. 

Across from him Techno slowly straightens up, cloak ruffling behind him. “I’ll grab all us some hot chocolate.” He suggests. “Think we all could use something sweet“ 

He’s about to exit the room when he catches Ranboo’s expression, noticing the way his face is beginning to crease slightly. 

In the moment, the commotion of opening up to Phil and Techno had somewhat distracted the hybrid from the pain in his head. But with things calming down it seems to have decided to re-announce it’s presence and this time it is throbbing. 

Techno is frozen, eyes trailed on Ranboo as he watches the boy’s fingers slowly curl in, hands grabbing fistfuls of fabric from the jacket draped over his knees. 

Phil whips around, following Techno’s eye-line, and swears under his breath. The catalyst reason for this whole ordeal comes crashing back into his memory as he curses himself for assuming everything could suddenly be fine again. He slowly starts rubbing circles around Ranboo’s back. “It’s okay mate. Is there anything we can do to help?” 

“I- um-“ Ranboo chokes on his words, slouching forwards. Concern rises in Phil chest and Techno takes a step toward the two, eyeing the potions on the table and internally trying to decide which would actually help. 

“Ranboo?” Phil presses again. This time he gets no audible response. Just a pained groan and a low cut sob. 

“Phil. Phil what do we do?” There is a desperation in Techno’s voice the older man has not heard for a long time. The piglin had found a plethora of ways to deal with his own migraines- his own restless voices- but he had never dealt with it in someone else before, and his inability to help is clearly flustering him more. 

Ranboo is curling in on himself, fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his scalp. “It’s so loud. I- it _hurts_.” He whines. 

“I know buddy, I know.” Phil whispers, pulling the teen’s hands from his scalp away and gently combing deft fingers through his black and white locks. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re here; me and Techno are here. We’re gonna help you as best we can. We won’t let anything bad happen to you I promise.”

Ranboo tries to focus on Phil’s voice, clings onto it like an anchor holding him in place. He wants so badly to believe what he’s saying but the words are fickle and fall past his ears like sand. 

Mellohi comes back into his mind, beating at an excruciating pitch as it consumes his every thought. 

The world slips out from under him as nausea rolls up in his stomach. He lurches forwards as the music crescendos is a swirling tornado of excruciating noise as the voice cuts through the haze. It’s so clear somehow, admits all the chaos of the music that drowns out even his own thoughts, and it’s screaming at him. 

Techno and Phil are yelling but he _can’t hear them_ and he falls to the floor- feeling Phil’s arms pull back in panic- dry heaving as his limbs begin to go numb beneath him. The world moves around him in a blur and his body feels like static as his mind is slowly ripped apart by the agonising sound. 

Everything is falling apart right in front of him and he _can’t breathe._ He chokes on his own sobs and the nothingness he retches up. There are hands wrapping around him and he needs them to keep him grounded but they feel so foreign and wrong and he tries desperately to squirm away. 

Vaguely he is aware of yelling from behind him, of hands pulling him closer to tray and stop him drifting into the void. But in that moment Ranboo is too tired to care, too overwhelmed with pain and fear to even try and keep himself grounded as exhaustion wins the day abs his world fades away to nothing. 

...

Ranboo wakes to something soft beneath him. He shifts and feels sheets wrap around him, silky and cool against his clammy skin. There is still a sharp pain in his temple but it’s less prominent now and the nausea has subsided. 

He stays still for a moment, not wishing to break the stillness as he anticipates, with baited breath, the music picking up again. 

He waits for one, two, three seconds but there is nothing. In the silence there is bliss. 

There’s a weight at the end of the bed and he feels it shift slightly before disappearing completely. Ranboo let’s his eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dim candlelight of the room. Suddenly his vision is engulfed as Phil’s face comes into view. The man kneels next to him, eyes sparkling with tears as he reaches out the brush Ranboo’s hair from his face. 

“Hey buddy. Glad to see you’re awake.” Phil’s voice is quiet but Ranboo still picks up on the small waver to it. He smiles softly, trying to reassure the man. 

“Hi Phil.” He breathes. 

“How’re you feeling mate?”

“M’better. Head hurts a lot less.” He pauses, watching Phil’s expression falter slightly. “I’m not hearing any weird voices now either.”

Phil chuckles, relief flooding over him as he leans backwards and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m glad to hear it mate. You had us really worried there.”

Ranboo’s ears flatten suddenly. “Oh yeah I- I’m sorry I- uh how long was I out?”

“A few hours. You were freaking out then you just kinda... collapsed. You were running a fever but we managed to get it down- you might still feel a bit crappy for a while though. Techno brought you up here and I’ve been watching over ya. Techno... he needed to go out for a but. Clear his head and all that. Think his own voices were getting a bit much.”

“I’m sorry about all this. You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

A hand come comes to wrap around his own and Ranboo finally allows himself to properly look up at Phil’s faces. Tears pool out from the corner of the man’s eyes but despite it he smiles. 

“Stop apologising mate. You have nothing to apologise for, I promise. Of course, I’d have preferred you telling us about all this sooner but you’ve told us now. I can’t pretend that I fully understand but I want to try to, if you’re willing to let me. And as much as he like to act as if he he doesn’t care, I can tell Techno feels the same way too”

There’s a beat of silence, as Ranboo contemplates Phil’s words, mules them over in his mind. 

He takes a breath, then nods slowly.

“I think... I think I’m ready to talk about it. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep going like this alone. So...” he looks up, and for a brief second his eyes meet Phil’s. The man can see so many emotions swirling around in the green and red irises; pain, fear, confusion; but amongst it all there is a glimmer of something precious, something he longs to preserve. Hope. 

“Will you help me?” Ranboo finishes and Phil laughs and he pulls the boy forward into his arms, ruffling his hair gently and he holds him close. 

“Of course mate. I’ll do my best. And I’ll make sure Techno does the same. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

Ranboo leans into his embrace and for the first time in what has felt like an eternity, he feels safe. 

Across the room Techno stands in the doorway unnoticed, having quietly slipped back inside. Watching the scene before him, he can’t help but smile just a little, and as he leans back against the doorway he makes a silent vow to himself, echoing Phil’s words as a feeling of relief washed over him. 

“We’ll protect you kiddo. Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wtf even is good pacing. You can find me on Tumblr and Twitter! (Also @melliohii <3) Anyways, thank you so much for reading! Have a wonderful day :]


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